


Drowned Man's Cove

by silverfoxflower



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Cannibalistic Mermaids, M/M, Mermaids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2263335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pirates!AU loosely inspired by mermaids from Pirates of the Carribean</p><p>--</p><p>"You’re on the crew to land," Steve said, when Bucky finally pulled away.</p><p>"Yeah, volunteered first thing." he kissed both of Steve’s cheeks and ruffled his hair. "Don’t you pine away for me!"</p><p>Steve pushed Bucky away with a sniff. “Yes, I’ll miss you sorely for the two entire days you’ll be gone. I’ll surely drown in my own tears.”</p><p>Bucky rolled his eyes, “Keep being cheeky and you can forget about me bringing you back a present.” There was a call, and he started trotting toward the longboats, Steve following.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowned Man's Cove

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: references to cannibalistic mermaids, (somewhat) character death

The locals called it Drowned Man Cove.

Steve didn’t know this, of course, since he wasn’t a local. And even if he did, there was nothing he could really do about it. Such was the perilous position of a former cabin boy of a merchant ship, now the _kidnapped_ cabin boy of a pirate ship.

The ship dropped anchor at the lee of the island. It was near-night, a deep violet twilight breaking the sky. Steve paused in his work to take a breath, hanging off the rigging and looking over the horizon.

"Oy!" a voice called him from below. Steve scrambled down. His body was still as small and scrawny as the day he’d arrived, but that was actually a boon when it came to climbing on the rigging. And after two months, the muscles on his arms and chest were certainly more defined.

Steve’s feet slapped down on the deck as Bucky walked towards him, arms open and grinning the grin of a man who got an extra ration of rum.

He picked Steve up and hugged him firmly, laughing, as Steve dutifully patted at his shoulders. Nobody paid attention to Bucky’s display of affection. Around them, all the pirates were rushing around, readying the longboats to cast to shore.

"You’re on the crew to land," Steve said, when Bucky finally pulled away.

"Yeah, volunteered first thing." he kissed both of Steve’s cheeks and ruffled his hair. "Don’t you pine away for me!"

Steve pushed Bucky away with a sniff. “Yes, I’ll miss you sorely for the two entire days you’ll be gone. I’ll surely drown in my own tears.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Keep being cheeky and you can forget about me bringing you back a present.” There was a call, and he started trotting toward the longboats, Steve following.

"As if you’ll have enough money after the gambling and women!" Steve called over the rail as Bucky jumped over and onto the rocking wooden boat below.

And that was the last thing that Steve ever said to him.

—

The men who came back, who were on Bucky’s boat, spun wild tales. Of sirens, selkies, women with gold eyes and gleaming tails. Nobody had a straight story. There was poison on their lips, there was blood under their nails. There was the sound of some eerie, sorrowful song on the breeze as they dragged their prey down, down, down.

Seven men were lost that day. Steve’s heart broke for just one.

—

"Captain Rogers," Natasha poked her head into the cabin where Steve was nearly buried in unfurled maps, studying one intently. "Sam sighted the island. We’ll drop anchor by half-noon."

Steve nodded his thanks, carefully rolling up the parchment in his hands. That night, that fateful night when Bucky died had been playing in his mind for ten long years. Back then, he hadn’t been strong enough, large enough to be considered for the longboats. Steve had spent too many nights wondering, if he had been there, maybe …

It was with great luck, or perhaps bad fate, that he had found the ledger one day while arranging the Navigation room. It had belonged to the former Captain, and there was an entry for the island they had visited on the night of Bucky’s death.

There was, specifically, a reference to Drowned Man Cove, and an encrypted message under it that it took Steve years to decipher.

It was a fool’s errand at best, a suicide mission at worst, but Steve _had_ to know what happened that night.

—

It was half noon when they dropped anchor, just as Natasha predicted. She was supervising the lowering of the longboats when Steve stepped out of his champers, squinting under the sunlight.

"The crew is ready for shore leave, sir," she nodded in his direction. "They think it’s a routine landing."

"Good," he said, a little sadly. He hated lying to his crew, but their loyalty was too strong, too well-earned. And this was something he had to do alone.

Before they debarked, he had sat down privately with the two people he trusted most on the ship, his First Mate, Natasha and his Navigator, Sam, and told them of his plan.

"You don’t have to come with me," he had said.

They had looked at each other, and just as had Steve hoped and feared,

"I’m with you, Captain." Sam had said.

"You’ll need us, Captain." Natasha had said, with a quirk of her lip. "We want you back alive."

Now, Steve gripped the railing as he watched his crew rush around in the decks below, picturing those men from a decade past - gleeful, greedy, drunk - already talking of the riches they would find in the Cove and what they would purchase with their share. Travelling back to this spot stirred _memories_. He could almost see Bucky as he was then, young and strong and cocky, swinging Steve around the middle of the deck. 

"I informed Second Mate Hill of possible … possibilities," Natasha said, continuing to look forward. "Should she have to assume command. In case."

"In case." Steve echoed.

—

A last hurrah. Steve went ashore with the rest of his men, clapped backs and scattered silver pieces to buy them rounds at the tavern, though he didn’t partake himself.

Sam and Natasha, he suspected, had rented a room in the Inn down the street, as when he met them that evening by the shore, Natasha had a swing to her hips and Sam couldn’t stop grinning as he looked at her.

It was again, the blush of twilight, the mystical, violet hue that had painted the insides of Steve’s eyelids when he dreamed about that night.

Steve gave Natasha a hand onto the boat (which she took with a sardonic expression) and climbed on himself. Sam waded into the water as he pushed the dinghy forward, then crawled over the side.

"Ready, Captain?"

"Ready."

—

It was a cool night, bracing wind slapping Steve’s face as he rowed forward with a steady force. He’d stripped off his jacket, his hat and his vest, and was clad only in a thin, white shirt which clung to his chest with sweat. His gun belt hung low on his hips, his trusty pistol knocking against the slats of his seat with every shift of the boat. 

As the yawning mouth of the Cove neared, Natasha raised the lantern over her head, a circle of yellow light on the gentle water.

Suddenly, something rocked the boat. Natasha kept firm hold of the lantern, which sent light skittering over the waves.

"Did we hit a-" Sam said, when another nudge sent the boat skidding.

"They’re pushing us towards the Cove," Steve said with dawning horror. "Grab the oars!"

Sam lunged for the one on the left as Steve grabbed a hold of the one on the right, trying to pull it out of the water when a sudden downward force unsteadied him.

There was a girl hanging onto the end of the oar. Long blond hair, a childish face. She pouted playfully as they played a tug-of-war, far too strong for her build.

Her eyes flashed gold in the lamplight.

With a yell, Steve stabbed the oar down, intending to wretch it from her grasp but accidentally slashing open her chin. With a piercing scream, the girl flipped backwards into the water, and the next second a gleaming tail came to the surface, slamming the side of the boat.

"Lost it!" Sam yelled, hanging onto the side of the boat for dear life as the water around them began to roil. Gleaming tails and long, trailing hair, hands that grasped, grabbed, clawed.

Natasha holding the lantern above her head like a beacon, slid the pistol out of her hip holster and began shooting into the water.

"Now why didn’t I think of that?" Sam muttered as he and Steve scrambled for their pistols, shooting as well as they could while trying to keep the boat from flipping over. There were screams and the frothing water turned red.

"I have to reload!" Natasha shove the lantern towards Steve and he raised it above his head as he continued shooting.

That’s when he saw it.

Where the others were frenzied, he was calm, cutting a swath through their chaos as he swam slowly to the side of the boat. His head and shoulders were raised above the water, his wet hair was curling against his neck, but his face under glowing lantern light was so painfully familiar.

"Bucky?" Steve murmured, lowering his pistol.

Bucky’s eyes flashed gold and his arms shot out, grabbing Steve’s shoulders and hauling him half-overboard. The lantern swung wildly within his grasp, and Steve did it, almost let himself be dragged over.

"Steve!" Natasha’s cry and a boom, right by his ear.

Bucky’s face was so close to Steve’s that Steve could watch the bloom of red on his cheek, a hair’s breath from his eye. Bucky didn’t scream, but he did bare his teeth. They were sharp, inhuman, with a sheen of silver.

When Sam and Natasha dragged Steve back onto the boat he was shivering.

"We have to leave," Sam said, looking over Steve’s shoulder. The mermaids had left the boat for now, rocking softly, but there was a swell in the distance.

"No," Steve said grimly. He shrugged off their hands and stood, stripping off his gun belt and boots.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked slowly, "You better not be doing what I think you’re-"

"Natasha," Steve said, squeezing her shoulder. "Take care of my crew. Sam," he smiled softly. "Take care of Natasha. Thank you both for your service."

"No!" Sam said, lunging for Steve, but he had already jumped overboard, diving into the inky black water, down, down, down.

—

Natasha had to grab Sam’s arm to keep him from jumping after. They sat in the gently rocking boat, clinging to each other as the light in the lantern burned lower and lower.

"It was in the cipher in the ledger," Natasha said quietly. "It said, _sacrifice_.”

—

Steve woke with a sputter, the water in his mouth tasting acrid and bitter. He turned over and spat it out, taking great, heaving breaths.

He was lying on sand. Alive, probably. Steve dragged himself to a sitting position, taking in his surroundings. Deep in a cove, but it looked different than the one they had been rowing to. This one faced a part of the island he’d never seen, and the morning sunlight lit everything with a cheerful, normal glow.

There was a slapping sound, and Steve drew his feet back from the water in alarm.

It was ... Bucky, resting his chin on his arms as he lay in the shallow water by where Steve was resting. He flopped his tail again. It was silver-grey in the sunlight, with an almost metallic sheen. Now that Steve could see it, so was the entirety of Bucky’s left arm.

"What is this?" Steve asked shakily, getting to his feet. "Bucky?"

Bucky smiled, the way he used to smile. The way he smiled when he told Steve he got them the commission onto the merchant vessel. The way he smiled when he was chosen to board that longboat ten years ago.

He lifted his hand, pointing behind Steve. Swallowing, Steve turned.

Bones. Thousands and thousands of bleached bones, human by the shape of their skulls. The most recent lay not ten feet from where Steve was standing, flesh still crusting on the cartilage, teeth marks scraped along the sides.

And then there was the gold. Silver. Jewels, spilling over their gruesome cradle. They gleamed in the sunlight, strings of pearls twining through rib cages, skulls cracked open and bleeding droplets of rubies.

Steve gagged, hugging himself as he shuddered. “What is all of this?”

"I got you a present," Bucky said, sounding, of all things, _affectionate_.

**Author's Note:**

> [more fics](http://actualmenacebuckybarnes.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic) can be found on [my tumblr](http://actualmenacebuckybarnes.tumblr.com)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bring Me Back a Star](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4180227) by [keire_ke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keire_ke/pseuds/keire_ke)




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